


Sweepin' the Clouds Away

by idiosyncratic



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiosyncratic/pseuds/idiosyncratic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers agree to appear on Sesame Street in a bid to boost their publicity. Tony is less than pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweepin' the Clouds Away

Technically, the whole thing was Fury's idea, or so Tony was informed. Apparently the subject had been brought up in one of the meetings that Fury insisted everyone attend - "...and by everyone, I mean _you_ Stark..." - a meeting that Tony had evidently _forgotten_ to attend; opting instead for the company of a very expensive bottle of scotch and, given the lack of actual human fellowship, a malfunctioning robotic arm. Needless to say, it was not the first time he had woken up in his garage, hungover and covered in extinguisher discharge.

What he was yet to determine, however, why no one had taken the liberty to fill him in until today. He was sure that Natasha found great satisfaction in notifying him of their impending PR campaign over breakfast. However, when Tony asked for specifics, it was Clint who called joyfully from the adjoining room, "We're going to Sesame Street, man!" Tony snorted with amusement, chuckling into his coffee until he caught the deadpan glance Natasha was giving him.

"Since when does our super secret boy band entertain children?"

"Since Fury deemed it necessary for us to improve our public image. If you weren't too busy being a 'genius-playboy-billionaire-philanthropist', as you put it, and attended briefings like a mature adult perhaps you'd have known about this sooner," she replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"But Sesame Street? Really? Can you honestly tell me that Nick Fury, our very own sassy cyclops, deemed it necessary for us to parade around on PBS?" Although, the longer Tony thought about it, the more he began to suspect that Pepper had suggested Sesame Street.

"You don't like PBS?" Natasha was beginning to smirk.

"No; it's boring. Its shows are insufferably boring."

"Well, tough. The idea is to get a better public image. What better way to do that than on a public broadcasting service?"

"You're enjoying this a little too much," Tony grumbled, downing what remained of his coffee with a general sense of bitterness and reached across the table to refill his Ironman mug.

"Of all the people I was expecting to object to this plan, you were not one of them," Natasha shook her head. "Even Fury agreed to participate." Tony spluttered, having accidentally inhaled some of his coffee. Natasha waited patiently for him to finish choking before continuing. "Look Tony, everyone has agreed to do their part in helping out..."

"Not exactly _everyone_ ," Bruce remarked as he trudged in, "I'm not going."

"What?" Tony turned indignantly on the weary scientist, "Why the hell not?"

Bruce stuck some bread in the toaster, yawning as he answered, "For three reasons. One, unlike some people around here I've actually got a day job; two, kids don't know Bruce Banner, they know the Hulk; and three, Coulson has forbidden me from going for safety reasons."

"Hey, I've got a day job too!"

"Copulation and alcoholism doesn't count," Bruce countered, grabbing a plate for his toast. Natasha sighed in exasperation, cutting off whatever retort Tony was about to fire at Bruce.

"For God's sake Tony, it's one day. The rest of us have agreed to do it. Clint, Nick, Steve, even Thor was up for it. If I had a dollar for everytime JARVIS showed me a video of you on Youtube, I could buy out Stark Industries three times over. How about you grow a pair and start building a good reputation for yourself?" and with that, Natasha spun on her heel and stalked out of the kitchen.

Bruce gave a dark chuckle. "That's right Tony. Grow a pair so she can rip them off."

"Better to have had 'em and lost 'em than to have Coulson own 'em," Tony shot back, Bruce falling silent and scurrying away with his toast once he caught Tony's glare. Alone with his coffee, Tony sat in contemplation for several minutes. In silence he weighed up the pros and cons of the situation; the pros being an improved PR front, the cons being that on the off chance that Loki watched PBS, he and the Avengers would probably lose their ferocity somewhat. Eventually, his brain went ' _what the hell_ ' and once he'd finished his coffee, Tony went to get his suit on. He'd debase himself for a day, if only to see how Steve and Thor would handle a mob of children.

\---

Thus why, regardless of whatever technicality that had taken Fury's initial plan and transformed it into Tony's nightmare, Tony found himself in his Ironman suit on the set of Sesame Street wedged in between Captain America and Big Bird with what was best described to be a rabid horde of goblins photographing them. Steve smiled, and raised his shield to chest height as he waved with a movement that seemed rehearsed to Tony. Nudging his fellow Avenger, Tony leaned in towards him.

"Done this before then?" he muttered through his smile.

"I have," Steve replied, still waving, "But please don't remind me."

"Didn't enjoy the attention?"

"At first, maybe. But after knocking out Hilter in every major city in America, saying the same self-deprecating sales pitch over and over, the novelty of being a dancing monkey wore off," Steve replied tensely, compensating for the distasteful memory by widening his already ludicrous smile.

"How'd they convince you to do this?"

"Pepper promised me dancing lessons," Steve admitted sheepishly.

Tony frowned, "But Pepper can't dance."

"She said you'd teach me."

Just as the Captain's reply registered in Tony's mind, the thought was promptly interrupted by Thor's voice booming across the set.

"Greetings children of Midgard!"

Behind Thor trailed Natasha, Fury, and Clint who looked like he was about to start crying rainbows. Natasha had been kind enough to explain Clint's enthusiasm, attributing it to the fact that some of the happier memories Clint had as a child involved him and his brother watching Sesame Street together.

After the mandatory photos that almost every single child in the room insisted on taking of the Avengers standing beneath the Sesame Street sign, the director and producer approached and shook everyone's hand before outlining what each of them would be doing today. Each of them would be paired with a puppet for their own separate segment before joining together at the end. Steve would be paired with Big Bird, Thor with Snuffleupagus, Natasha with Elmo, Tony with Grover and Clint almost fainted with delight at being paired with the Count.

"What about Fury?" Tony asked. The director quickly referred to his clipboard.

"Mr. Fury will be reading a picture story book for the children," he replied, ushering Fury across the room to get prepped for his reading. As soon as they were out of earshot Clint and Tony, who were apparently on the same wavelength, began to snigger.

"Fury reading a picture story book?"

"What do you think he'll read?"

Clint's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, "What about _Go the Fuck to Sleep_?"

Tony snorted and covered one eye with his hand, "I'll read you one very last book if you swear you'll go the fuck to sleep," he recited in his best impression of Fury. Clint laughed loudly, much to the confusion of Thor and Steve.

"How could you ever read something like that to a child?" Steve asked incredulously, his question met with a renewed fit of hysterics from Clint. It took several reassurances from Natasha, and more than a handful of apologies from Tony and Clint (from Tony anyway, Clint could hardly breathe let alone apologise), before Steve would admit that Fury reading to children was even the slightest bit amusing.

Meanwhile, Thor had wandered over to the crowd to, as he put it, 'appease the little ones'. He currently was holding a giggling boy upside down by his ankles, balancing an additional child on each of his shoulders. To his left, three little girls and their father were attempting to lift Mjölnir, much to Thor's amusement.

From across the room, the director hurried over, flicking through the pages that populated his clipboard, "Alright Captain, you're up first. If you would like to follow me," and kept hurrying on past them.

"So, what do we do in the meantime?" Clint called out, having regained enough of his composure to at least speak unhindered. The director paused for a moment.

"Feel free to watch the others while you wait. Or, pass the time with the children. I'm sure they'd love that."

Tony inclined his head to survey the mass of youngsters as they all but crawled over each other to get a turn at lifting Mjölnir and grimaced. It was going to be a long day.

\---

"Ready, and action!" Now that he thought about it, Tony had never actually sat through an entire episode of Sesame Street. He vaguely remembered a jet-lagged afternoon spent several years ago in a hotel room without cable and a _couldn'tbefuckedfindingtheremote_ mentality. Still, he could not recall ever bearing witness to the sight of a eight foot canary stuck up a tree. A bird. Stuck up a tree.

"How can a bird get stuck up a fucking tree?" Tony hissed at Clint. Clint's lips quirked as Big Bird continued to cry helplessly from the biggest bough of the faux tree he was hanging from.

"Shh, Steve's bit is coming up," Clint replied.

Sure enough, Captain America came barreling through the gathered crowd of extras calling out to Big Bird to 'remain calm'. However, his heroic cries were rendered superfluous when the branch Big Bird was fastened to splintered with a crack and 175 pounds of feathered delight plummeted toward the ground. Disregarding the fact that they were currently filming a children's show, Tony maintained the belief that it would have been far more entertaining to see the bird hit the ground. But once again, the star-spangled-man-with-a-plan came to the rescue, lunging forward and catching Big Bird in his arms moments before he hit the ground.

Tony made a promise to himself to record this very moment of the program when it aired, because the image of Steve carrying an anthropomorphised canary bridal style was one he wanted to forever remember. Just as he was contemplating how much it would cost him to slap said image on every billboard in New York, he became aware of an explosive sneezing sound emanating from behind him. Casting a look over his shoulder, Tony was rewarded with the vision of Clint who had all but shoved his fist into his mouth in attempt to silence his hysterics. Soon the both of them were clutching at each other in a desperate bid to remain standing as they howled in laughter.

"Cut, cut!" The director stormed forward, making a beeline for the two men. "If you two are going to act this way the entire time you're here, I'd suggest finding a better waiting place."

"No, we'll be good, we swear," Clint gasped, and held up his hand. "Scout's honour."

The director glared, but seemed satisfied enough to continue. "Seeing as Mr. Stark's and Mr. Barton's ill-timed mirth ruined the end of the shot, we'll go from there. If you would just return to your mark, thank you Mr. Rogers."

Steve shot Tony a glare as he shuffled back, his expression shifting back to his 'superhero smile' as soon as the director called action.

"Why thank you Captain America. You're a hero!" Big Bird, or rather the poor bastard _inside_ Big Bird, exclaimed. The captain clapped Big Bird on the wing, and gave the camera a sly wink.

"It was nothing my friend. That's just what heroes do."

"What else do heroes do?"

"Lower and belittle ourselves for the entertainment of toddlers?" Tony muttered under his breath, Clint nudging him in warning as the director glanced warily in his direction.

"Heroes always do what is right. But remember Big Bird, you don't need to have a suit or a shield to be a hero. We can all be heroes in our own way."

It took great amounts of self control on Tony's part not to outwardly groan at the sheer platitude of what the producers were making poor Steve do. Thus why for the remainder of Steve's scene, Tony stayed true to his promise and kept silent; if only to prevent the prolonging of this agony. Even Steve looked relieved once his part was over.

"Well done Cap," Clint remarked, then added somewhat mockingly, "Truly a praiseworthy performance."

Tony was tempted to punch Clint, but something told him that the folks at Sesame Street probably wouldn't like him knocking Hawkeye through a wall, despite how deserving he was of it. Regardless of whatever retort Tony, or Steve, might have eventually thought of, the director interrupted their train of thought. "Mr. Barton? You're up. Follow me please."

\---

"Now that's a little bit unfair, right? Why doesn't Clint have to say as much dialogue as me?" Steve commented diffidently to Tony.

"Mayhap you were chosen over Hawkeye because your past performances demonstrated a prowess in theatrics," Thor offered helpfully as he approached. "Your preceding exploits certainly signalled to me an aptitude for this sort of thing."

Steve turned on Tony. "You swore never to show that to anyone," he growled. " _Ever_."

"He asked nicely."

"Tony."

A warning.

"He asked _very_ nicely."

"Tony!"

A stronger warning. Still, Tony could not resist one last dig at his companion.

"You know, you're kinda sexy when you're angry."

Steve spluttered as he grasped at a retort; and being unable to find one, huffed in exasperation. "I'm going to go talk to the kids."

Tony shrugged. "Sure, if you don't mind the lack of intelligent conversation."

"More intelligent than the one I'm having now..." Steve muttered, hurriedly stalking away. Despite the insult, Tony had to smile at Steve's remark; if only for the fact that it meant that the stick Steve had rammed up his ass was finally becoming unstuck.

"Man of Iron! Might I have a word with you?"

"I suppose you might, Son of Odin," Tony replied, turning his attention upon the Asgardian to find his features frozen in the same dewy-eyed expression of wonderment as when he had stumbled across Banner making popcorn one night. He'd spent the next week convinced that Bruce was a sorcerer.

"Why is there a man beneath the bespectacled violet elf?"

"He's not an elf, Thor, he's a vampire."

"That was not my question. Why is there a man beneath the bespectacled violet vampire, as you say?" Thor repeated as he watched the puppeteer steer the Count's conversation with Hawkeye.

"He is a muppet and that man is his 'muppeteer'."

"But you said he was a vampire not five seconds ago," Thor all but whined as he tried to understand. Tony bit back a groan and suddenly wished that Steve was still here. As if by divine intervention, Natasha materialised at his elbow to rescue him.

"What Tony means, Thor, is that the vampire is a puppet being controlled by that man there. The man can make him talk and move just like a normal person," she explained, and Tony was relieved to see a comprehending look spread across Thor's face.

Surreptitiously he mouthed the words ' _thank you_ ' to Natasha, who shrugged dismissively in a gesture that said ' _no problem_ '.

"...now remember kids, I am a professional. So make sure to check with your parents before getting your own bow and arrows."

The director yelled cut, and several studio members rushed about making small adjustments to the set and Clint's make-up.

"Alright, we need everyone to clear the floor. Mr. Barton, if you'd like to stand at your mark." Clint turned towards a line of targets set up by the studio.

"Only targets? Don't I get to shoot an apple on someone's head?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.

The director shook his head vigorously. "The OSHA would have our heads if we even thought about putting an actor up there. And before you ask; yes, the muppets do count as actors," the director answered, much to Clint's disappointment.

"I could do it off Thor's head," Clint persisted, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Verily!"

"Mr. Barton, it is not that we doubt your capabilities; but we'd rather not risk a court case because a child attempted to recreate a stunt and instead took out the neighbour's dog. So please, could we just stick to the script?"

"Fine," Clint sighed somewhat dejectedly. Shuffled sidewards onto his mark, he took an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. The director returned to his chair and yelled action. The Count stalked over to Clint's side and laughed animatedly.

"Vell Mr. Hawkeye, you say zat you are ze best archer that you know. Shall I count how many bullseyes you can hit?"

Clint faced the camera, "Would you kids like to help the Count? Let's see how many bullseyes we can count." And with that, Clint pulled the arrow back and released, hitting the first bullseye dead on. He hit every bullseye after the first; the Count numbering each of his successes.

"...twenty! Twenty bullseyes!" the Count exclaimed, throwing his head back and laughing. "Let's sing a song about the number twenty!"

"I'm ready when you are Count!" Clint replied as the music started up behind them. " _Twenty, twenty, that is plenty..._ " The remark Tony was about to make died on his lips when Natasha gave him a sidewards glare and hissed, "Behave."

He didn't even manage to protest indignantly before the director sped over to Natasha and steered her towards another part of the set; leaving him with Thor, who watched on in amazement as the puppeteer detached himself from his puppet and went to get a drink.

\---

"A, B, C..." Tony was sure the day was getting worse. Steve's part had been cringeworthy, but entertaining nonetheless. He'd made it through Clint's part, although he was sure he'd need to have his eardrums checked for bleeding after listening to Clint's singing. But he was uncertain as to whether he'd be able to endure several takes of a bright red, fuzzy, tone deaf...thing shakily making its way through the alphabet.

"Hey Elmo, what are you doing?"

It came as a surprise to Tony that Natasha seemed to adapt to the film environment with relative ease; although in retrospect, he figured that he _shouldn’t_ have been all that surprised – Natasha had managed to infiltrate his company without a single person suspecting her, least of all him. So it shouldn’t have been that big of a stretch for her to pretend to care what an off-pitch ball of red fur was doing.

“Oh, hi Miss Black Widow. Elmo’s trying to remember the alphabet, but Elmo is having a little trouble.”

Tony only just managed to bite back a scathing remark, noting how Clint seemed to smirk as if he knew what he was thinking. A glance to their right almost had the two of them sniggering at the enraptured silence Thor had fallen into.

“Well that’s okay Elmo. I think I know of a way to help you remember the alphabet. When you say a letter, just think of a word that starts with that letter. Understand?”

“I think so. A comes first. What starts with A?”

Natasha turned to the camera, “A is for the Avengers, the people who protect you.”

Tony made an exasperated sound at the back of his throat and pushed his palm against his face. At this exact point in time Tony literally felt like he would rather have his arc reactor torn from his chest than listen to any further dialogue between the two red-heads.

“B is for Black Widow; that’s you!” Elmo chimed in.

“C is for Captain America,” Natasha added.

“D is for dissolving intelligence…” Tony muttered. Clint snorted. A couple seconds later, Thor uttered a grumble of reprimand and gave Tony a nudge that just about bowled him over.

“G is for green, the colour of the Hulk.”

“H is for Hawkeye…”

Just as Tony was genuinely considering following Steve into the pit of Hellspawn, a rap on one of his back plates roused him from his mental torture.

“Mr. Stark? Your scene is -”

“Thank Christ, take me away from here.” The director blinked confusedly.

“If you’d…uhhh…like to follow me…”

Tony followed the director eagerly away, the heavy footsteps behind him alerting him that he too was being followed by the cumbersome golden retriever that was Thor.

\---

"No."

"Mr. Stark please..."

Tony crossed his arms in a gesture that appeared far more childish than he would ever admit to it being.

"I said no; I don't care what evidence there is to the contrary, but as it turns out I actually do have an ounce of self-respect left. I will pay you to let me sit this one out, just name your price and I'll pay up."

"Mr. Stark!" the director interrupted, looking properly irate. "Sir, it does not matter what you are willing to pay; your superiors signed an agreement saying that you would do a segment on our show. Superhero or not, you are still legally obligated to complete your part. So, with all due respect, stop acting like a prima donna and harden up."

Tony scowled at the director once his back was turned; ignoring Clint’s exclamation of ‘ooh burn!’ and Thor’s rumbling chuckles. A glare in their general direction brought pointed silence, though Clint still grinned like an idiot.

“Fine, let’s get this the hell over with,” he muttered venomously, wishing ardently for a very alcoholic drink.

The puppeteer he was working with gave him a look that said that he was just as excited about working with Tony as Tony was with him. So, like the mature adult he was, Tony poked his tongue at him and closed his visor.

“Ready and action!”

In a blur of movement and blue fur Grover jumped into his dialogue, to which Tony listened to distantly, his mind at present more focused on how ridiculous the puppet looked in his red cape and helm. Just as he was beginning to realise the significance of such, JARVIS’s voice chimed in.

“Sir, I believe that was your cue,” the A.I remarked drily mere moments before the director yelled cut.

“Mr. Stark.”

“I know, I missed my cue. Sorry about that, was having a small epiphany.”

“I don’t care if you were having a grand prophetic vision; every take costs this studio money. So, if you please,” the director pointed at Tony’s mark. “And raise the visor before speaking, if you don’t mind.”

Tony just nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak without insulting anyone. The director called action, and though every fibre of his being screamed at him to rebel - or at the very least give the director the finger and fling a few choice profanities - Tony did as he was told.

“What is that I hear; citizens in trouble? Never fear, for Super Grover is here!” Grover made a move, as if trying to take off, but stayed planted firmly on the ground. “Oh no, an evil villain has stolen my superpowers! Whatever shall I do?”

Tony clenched his teeth, forced his face into a smile and strutted into the shot, “I’ll help you Super Grover!”

The puppet gasped in what Tony liked to think was reverence. _Damn straight_ , Tony thought smugly. “Oh my goodness, it’s Iron Man! Will you help me find my powers?”

“Super Grover, you don’t need super powers to be super,” Tony gritted out through the utterly painful smile he had to retain. Grover gave a dramatic sigh and sagged.

“But without my powers, I’m not Super Grover any more. I’m just Normal Grover.”

_You’d be a pile of scorched blue fur if I had my way,_ Tony thought maliciously.

“The powers don’t make the hero, Grover, and I can prove it. Come on, hop on my back and hold on tight, we’re going for a ride!” Grover waddled over and placed his fluffy mitts on Tony’s shoulder plates; and as he did, Tony was sure he could hear what was left of his self-respect being cast to the wind.

When it was over, Tony stalked across to where Thor and Clint waited for him. He noticed that Natasha had made her way over whilst he’d been filmed.

“We will never speak of this again,” he growled. Thor clapped him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh.

“Well done Stark. I daresay you have it in you to challenge the good Captain’s efforts.” Tony gritted his teeth and thought of his workshop; his workshop _and solitude_.

“Come on Tony, it wasn’t _that_ bad,” Natasha remarked with a smirk.

“You got through it okay.”

“Yeah,” Tony scoffed.

“But only because I forced myself to imagine it was Thor I was talking to…no offence.”

He patted Thor’s arm. “Mr…uhh…Thor?” The demigod turned and very literally looked down upon the director. “They’re ready for you on the main street set.”

“Lead on,” Thor replied, and followed the director as he scurried away.

\---

If Tony had any misgivings about the director’s competence, or Thor’s ability to understand Midgardian technology, they were disproved on both counts within five minutes of filming. The director quickly briefed Thor on his scene – where his mark was, when to speak and what to look at – and much to Tony’s surprise, the Asgardian nodded and moved to his mark in preparation for the start of the shot.

All seemed to be shaping out fine: until Thor laid eyes on Snuffleupagus. Only one word came to Tony’s mind to describe the expression that overcame Thor’s face; and that was _rapture_.

“Sir Director! Tell me, what do you call that creature yonder?”

Tony gave Clint a look out of the corner of his eye, and they broke into sniggers.

Meanwhile, Steve rejoined the group. “How’s Thor going?” he asked.

“Don’t know. Hasn’t started yet, he’s too enraptured with Snuffie,” Clint replied, gesturing.

“How were the trolls?”

Steve was momentarily confused before his mind made the connection between Tony’s derisive title and the children.

“The children were fine Tony. Not that you really care.”

Tony scoffed, “I’m hurt, Steven. Of course I care about the sweet little monsters you seem so enamored with.”

“Well, that’s a relief to hear,” Natasha interrupted, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “Because Pepper just donated a million dollars to PBS.”

“That’s fine, I trust her judg– she what?!”

Whatever conflict was about to transpire was immediately forgotten, however, when Thor’s voice was heard booming through the set, “A creature so magnificent would make a worthy steed!”

“No! Thor, it’s not a real–” Tony winced, and eyed Natasha, “Is he mounting Snufflupagus?”

Natasha, meanwhile, was smiling widely – partly because of the spectacle Thor was making of himself and partly because Clint had collapsed with laughter.

“Yes, I believe he is.”

Tony pressed his hands to his face, “All I can say is that I sincerely hope that Loki does not watch PBS.”

\---

As it turned out, Loki did watch the PBS channel amongst others as a form of surveillance. Thus why the next time the Avengers confronted him, they found themselves fighting Big Bird and other assorted puppets. In the end, the damage was minimal due to Loki’s inability to stop laughing at Thor wrestling with a demonic Snuffleupagus. He just managed to gasp out a taunting, “Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?” before disappearing. No one ever spoke of it again.


End file.
